Mission Statement- We will be here for our fellow group members and other classmates to help with their writing and other problems. (We’re like Oprah and Dr. Phil only better!!!! So come to us with your problems) Beowulf Parody
TearJerker - I am an artist and I breakdance! But I write really well and I am looking to improve to make it better!
BookWorm - I love to read books! I am almost always reading something, anything I get my hands on I will read. In my spare time, I write poetry.
Ninja Penguin- I like ninjas and penguins. In my spare time I run cross-country. In class I am always cracking jokes, and I like to make people laugh.
Sax Addict- Obviously I'm kinda a sax addict(: I like to write poetry/lyrics.
ISH- im an actor by trade, and i love a good book. You'll never beat me in chess because i love my rook. I'm a poet and didnt know it! (just kidding) i love to work with my hands and build things. If anyone needs help you can come to me, there wont even be a fee :)
PROLOGUE
Five people came on my bus
joining the rest of us.
I picked them up at starbucks
when they came in they made ruckus.
After I had my lunch
they came on in a bunch,
All of them went to the back
to get away from the pack.
They were all dressed crisp and right
thinking they looked so tight.
As we traveled to the city,
the view outside was really pretty.
The trees were all of many colors
not one looked exactly like the others.
We saw many types o them, including a maple,
there were children under, they were so playful-
To see the leaves fall
and where the towers were tall
we're going to where they fell to the ground
so we can go and walk around
they say they're going for "inspiration"
but I only laugh at their desperation
I also let out a slight chuckle
when I realized my seat belt wasn't buckled.
They sat down altogether,
as waves crash in messy weather.
The old seats made an ugly sound
as the artist looked around
at the place they would soon leave behind.
There was no comfort that I could provide.
I took one more look back
as the journalist went in his knapsack.
I pulled on the long black lever
the double doors slowly came together, however
an old lady’s cane blocked the double doors
she stood waiting her legs covered in sores.
I opened the doors and she came in
looked at my name tag and said, “Its abou time Hamilton”
well I guess that’s it, there’s nothing left to tell
about this cold seasons weather when the leaves fell
I pressed on the gas and we were off,
to a place where men's lives were lost.
Next to tell is of all the passenger, starting with the musician,
going on until we reach all of there interactions.
Musician
Of one that came aboard to travel,
Has a story I will now unravel.
She's on this trip to be inspired,
By everyone else she was admired.
Looked as she was always at her best,
So well put together and so well dressed.
Her dark blue jeans floated above her shoes,
In which bright colors they were bejeweled.
Her tunic was long and flowy and white,
Against her eyes it popped just right.
So she headed towards the back of the bus,
An instrument in hand-a definite must.
Her strides were powerful, indeed,
Born to perform, born to lead.
I could hear her giggle, her laugh, her voice,
Talking to people was always her choice.
However, focused she seemed to stay,
Always at work but also at play.
Down to earth is what she seemed,
A musician, you could tell, is what she would be.
By: Sax Addict Dancer
There once was a dancer not of noble birth
but rather from the streets on Brooklyn’s turf
he wore no tights or tutus for they were to lame
instead he rocked skinny jeans with no shame
he could jerk he could poplock and even flex
jumped on his toes without a single regret
a dancer at heart no scholar nor priest
twas not worried about his future in the least
he wore bright colors and a brown leather vest
his shoes blinded me form the strings to their red shoe crest
from yellow to red, pink and green
reminded me of myself in the 70's without all the hair sheen
his hair stretched out into one thousand spider legs
he smelled of a sweet aroma of corn bread
walked with a swag not a limp but a beat
with ears enclosed with music the faint tapping of his feet
no care in the world or thought in his mind
only the flow of the bass as his shoulders moved side to side
this guy he was different, intriguing indeed
this dancer I met he was born to lead.
By: TearJerker Poet
There was a poet so distinguished
she sat sometimes in anguish
finding the right words
was like sharpening swords
staring at a page as blank as her mind
wondering in whom to confide
when words came
she thought of them with shame
thinking they were no good
as many poets do
the hand wanted
to put words where they belong
the stack of paper wearing down
joints creaking as words poured out
her hands stained with ink
not the color of natural skin
struggling to find the right words
that are nuggets of gold
to find hidden meanings
that readers can find interesting
By: BookWorm
The Journalist
His hair was perfectly done
Parted surgically as if he never had fun
For clothing he chose a button down shirt
Completely the opposite of what I wear to a concert
For pants he chose to be bland
Just a pair of jeans and don’t misunderstand
He was all business never that funny
He had to be because he had no money
From what I heard he was passionate when he spoke
Each word carefully laid as delicate as smoke
He came on the bus looking for his next great work
His face was filled with a great big smirk
He knew what the people sought
A story that would make them distraught
They would all be stunned
And he would become rotund
This trip was merely a way to make him rich
Just as if he turned an ignition switch
By: Ninja Penguin
Actor
The actor, looking sophisticated and tall
Was worried like he was waiting for a call.
He sat down in the back re reading the well used script
Anxiously awaiting for the start of this trip.
He looked charming with his smile and his bright blue eyes
Carefully matching his suit with his ties.
His chiseled features along with his long dark hair
Made his female fans very aware.
He started out as an extra always on cue,
Now his dreams of the red carpet can finally come true
He started out in a high school play
Doing any job that came his way
Even the miniscule roles he did his best
Taking it one step farther then all the rest.
Long after high school he finally has the leads
His next role was one he was told to heed
The story of a firefighter who risked his life to save a boy
The boy was young, small and coy
The building was big and had many rooms
The firefighter couldn’t see through the plumes
The fire was strong and didn’t relent
The boy didn’t make it—the fireman felt the need to repent.
The actor’s job was to tell his story
Even if the details were gory.
To find his character and his mind set
He’s traveling with the rest to a place of most regret.
While he sits in the back I know he’ll find what he needs
this is a place of many peoples disbelief.
Mission Statement-
We will be here for our fellow group members and other classmates to help with their writing and other problems. (We’re like Oprah and Dr. Phil only better!!!! So come to us with your problems)
Beowulf Parody
TearJerker -
I am an artist and I breakdance! But I write really well and I am looking to improve to make it better!
BookWorm - I love to read books! I am almost always reading something, anything I get my hands on I will read. In my spare time, I write poetry.
Ninja Penguin- I like ninjas and penguins. In my spare time I run cross-country. In class I am always cracking jokes, and I like to make people laugh.
Sax Addict- Obviously I'm kinda a sax addict(: I like to write poetry/lyrics.
ISH- im an actor by trade, and i love a good book. You'll never beat me in chess because i love my rook. I'm a poet and didnt know it! (just kidding) i love to work with my hands and build things. If anyone needs help you can come to me, there wont even be a fee :)
PROLOGUE
Five people came on my bus
joining the rest of us.
I picked them up at starbucks
when they came in they made ruckus.
After I had my lunch
they came on in a bunch,
All of them went to the back
to get away from the pack.
They were all dressed crisp and right
thinking they looked so tight.
As we traveled to the city,
the view outside was really pretty.
The trees were all of many colors
not one looked exactly like the others.
We saw many types o them, including a maple,
there were children under, they were so playful-
To see the leaves fall
and where the towers were tall
we're going to where they fell to the ground
so we can go and walk around
they say they're going for "inspiration"
but I only laugh at their desperation
I also let out a slight chuckle
when I realized my seat belt wasn't buckled.
They sat down altogether,
as waves crash in messy weather.
The old seats made an ugly sound
as the artist looked around
at the place they would soon leave behind.
There was no comfort that I could provide.
I took one more look back
as the journalist went in his knapsack.
I pulled on the long black lever
the double doors slowly came together, however
an old lady’s cane blocked the double doors
she stood waiting her legs covered in sores.
I opened the doors and she came in
looked at my name tag and said, “Its abou time Hamilton”
well I guess that’s it, there’s nothing left to tell
about this cold seasons weather when the leaves fell
I pressed on the gas and we were off,
to a place where men's lives were lost.
Next to tell is of all the passenger, starting with the musician,
going on until we reach all of there interactions.
Musician
Of one that came aboard to travel,
Has a story I will now unravel.
She's on this trip to be inspired,
By everyone else she was admired.
Looked as she was always at her best,
So well put together and so well dressed.
Her dark blue jeans floated above her shoes,
In which bright colors they were bejeweled.
Her tunic was long and flowy and white,
Against her eyes it popped just right.
So she headed towards the back of the bus,
An instrument in hand-a definite must.
Her strides were powerful, indeed,
Born to perform, born to lead.
I could hear her giggle, her laugh, her voice,
Talking to people was always her choice.
However, focused she seemed to stay,
Always at work but also at play.
Down to earth is what she seemed,
A musician, you could tell, is what she would be.
By: Sax Addict
Dancer
There once was a dancer not of noble birth
but rather from the streets on Brooklyn’s turf
he wore no tights or tutus for they were to lame
instead he rocked skinny jeans with no shame
he could jerk he could poplock and even flex
jumped on his toes without a single regret
a dancer at heart no scholar nor priest
twas not worried about his future in the least
he wore bright colors and a brown leather vest
his shoes blinded me form the strings to their red shoe crest
from yellow to red, pink and green
reminded me of myself in the 70's without all the hair sheen
his hair stretched out into one thousand spider legs
he smelled of a sweet aroma of corn bread
walked with a swag not a limp but a beat
with ears enclosed with music the faint tapping of his feet
no care in the world or thought in his mind
only the flow of the bass as his shoulders moved side to side
this guy he was different, intriguing indeed
this dancer I met he was born to lead.
By: TearJerker
Poet
There was a poet so distinguished
she sat sometimes in anguish
finding the right words
was like sharpening swords
staring at a page as blank as her mind
wondering in whom to confide
when words came
she thought of them with shame
thinking they were no good
as many poets do
the hand wanted
to put words where they belong
the stack of paper wearing down
joints creaking as words poured out
her hands stained with ink
not the color of natural skin
struggling to find the right words
that are nuggets of gold
to find hidden meanings
that readers can find interesting
By: BookWorm
The Journalist
His hair was perfectly done
Parted surgically as if he never had fun
For clothing he chose a button down shirt
Completely the opposite of what I wear to a concert
For pants he chose to be bland
Just a pair of jeans and don’t misunderstand
He was all business never that funny
He had to be because he had no money
From what I heard he was passionate when he spoke
Each word carefully laid as delicate as smoke
He came on the bus looking for his next great work
His face was filled with a great big smirk
He knew what the people sought
A story that would make them distraught
They would all be stunned
And he would become rotund
This trip was merely a way to make him rich
Just as if he turned an ignition switch
By: Ninja Penguin
Actor
The actor, looking sophisticated and tall
Was worried like he was waiting for a call.
He sat down in the back re reading the well used script
Anxiously awaiting for the start of this trip.
He looked charming with his smile and his bright blue eyes
Carefully matching his suit with his ties.
His chiseled features along with his long dark hair
Made his female fans very aware.
He started out as an extra always on cue,
Now his dreams of the red carpet can finally come true
He started out in a high school play
Doing any job that came his way
Even the miniscule roles he did his best
Taking it one step farther then all the rest.
Long after high school he finally has the leads
His next role was one he was told to heed
The story of a firefighter who risked his life to save a boy
The boy was young, small and coy
The building was big and had many rooms
The firefighter couldn’t see through the plumes
The fire was strong and didn’t relent
The boy didn’t make it—the fireman felt the need to repent.
The actor’s job was to tell his story
Even if the details were gory.
To find his character and his mind set
He’s traveling with the rest to a place of most regret.
While he sits in the back I know he’ll find what he needs
this is a place of many peoples disbelief.
By: ISH